Perfection In These Scars
by soufflewhouffle
Summary: Matt and Jenna fight their feelings for eachother. Jenna has a lot of secrets; Matt must be strong enough to fix her. Smut, self harm and lots of fluff. A bit of everything, really. M because of the smut, I guess. Multiple chapters. I PROMISE not to abandon it.
1. Hit the road

It was a Sunday afternoon when Matt decided, quite suddenly, that he would go over to Jenna's apartment and pay her a long overdue visit.

By 'long overdue' he meant that it had been about a week since he last saw her. But that was longer than usual, now that filming for the 50th and the Christmas special was over. He had grown used to seeing her almost every day for hours on end; the last week had seemed strangely empty when she wasn't there to fill the hours with her lively chatter and glowing smile.

But then again, she hadn't been all that lively and glowing recently. She seemed more vacant, stressed, and when she thought nobody was looking, he would see her smile drop and he thought that she looked incredibly sad. But maybe he was just imagining it – he expected that all it was was the stress of getting the 50th anniversary and the final episode with him as the doctor exactly right. They were, after all, two very crucial episodes. And even Jenna, professional as ever, had to be stressed sometimes. After struggling to find work for a while, she had confided in him, this was her first big role and she was under a lot of pressure to make a good job of it. There was also the fact that she had just broken up with her long-time boyfriend, Daniel. She hadn't talked about him very much – she also hid the relationship from the press, so consequently Matt was almost the only person who knew about him. She had only told Nina - her best friend - and him. But now they had split up – she was unwilling to talk about the details of the relationship and he didn't press. He had asked her if she was all right, of course, and she had told him- 'Oh, I'm fine.' When he gave her a doubtful look, she'd added, 'You know me. I'll cry a bit tonight, maybe tomorrow. But I don't miss him, not really. I'll be all right soon enough.'

So he chalked her recently less cheerful mood down to pressure at work and maybe feeling a bit down in the dumps after her break-up.

He thought he really ought to see how she was doing, though. Just a check in. As a friend. Definitely as a friend. Nothing more. Not that it could be anything else, anyway- they were as close as can be and Matt was sorry to say that it meant that he had been, for want of a better word, _friend-zoned_. Not that he didn't like being friends with her – quite the opposite. In fact, he could go so far as to say that he trusted her more than anyone else; she made him laugh more than anyone else; he respected her and admired her more than anyone else; but then again, he supposed, anyone would feel that way towards the person they were in lo-

_No-_

_no_

_No, musn't think like that. Stop it! You know it can never happen. Don't dwell on it. Move on. Don't destroy the perfect friendship you have with her._

He berated himself angrily, annoyed at what he had nearly admitted to himself.

Being in love with Jenna was simply not an option and he definitely would not allow himself to go there.

Maybe going round to her apartment wasn't such a good idea after all – but then again, he felt as if he just couldn't go another day without seeing her again. He paced the floorboards of his sparsely furnished flat – he never could see the point in dressing up a place he barely stayed in – and ended up pulling on his coat and stepping out of the door while telling himself, _I have a duty to see if she is all right. After all, I am her friend._


	2. Clues

It was a good few hours later when he arrived at her apartment. The car journey had been a long one; but he didn't mind, not really. He had stopped off on the way to go to the toilet in a dusty old gas station, and while he was there he had filled up the tank. He had also bought some flowers and a couple of bags of aero bubbles, her favourite chocolate, and when the aged man serving them had winked at him and said, 'are these for your girl, then?' he had found himself smiling and nodding before catching himself and shaking his head viciously with a 'no, definitely not. Never. She's most certainly not my girl.'

The man had only looked at him knowingly as he walked out of the almost empty room feeling unusually flustered.

Now, though, about to knock on Jenna's door, he felt more excited than nervous and he was glad.

When she came to the door after a minute or so of impatient bell-ringing and knocking he wasn't tongue tied, or awkward, and he felt as comfortable around her as always.

She was wearing a loose, baggy t-shirt over sweatpants, her face was void of makeup and her hair scraped back into a high ponytail, but to him, she was still beautiful, her large eyes and pointed nose emphasised by the lack of hair hanging around her face, making her look adorable.

'Matt!' She exclaimed. 'What are you doing here?' Then she added, 'Not that I'm not happy to see you. It feels like it's been forever! Come in.'

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, beaming. 'I just thought I would pay you a visit, see how you were doing. I brought you these.' And he held out the flowers and the chocolate and she smiled up at him from her tiny height.

'Thank you.' She said.

'You're welcome.'

He threw himself down on her sofa, no invitations needed. He had been here once before, just after she had moved in. It had changed a lot since then; the walls were painted with a rich, warm orange, almost fading into red. She had a very Moroccan feel to the room, he noticed. It was such at such a contrast to his own bare, white-walled flat.

Still, she spent a lot of time at home, compared with him. He was was always dashing about, meeting someone, going out to a bar, talking business – in fact, now that he actually thought about it, he never really got a chance to relax by himself properly.

But he was happy enough, and he supposed that that was all that mattered. That he was satisfied with what he had.

Although he was very unsatisfied with the fact that the one thing he craved was off limits – Jenna herself.

_No_, he told himself, _You musn't think like that. You're friends, aren't you. You have her. It's enough._

And it was, for now. He simply wondered how long it would be until it wasn't.

'Tea? Coffee?' Jenna asked. 'It must have been a long drive.'

'It wasn't too bad.' He shrugged. 'It was worth it, anyway.' He smiled warmly at her and was rewarded with a small, but genuine, smile back. 'Oh! Coffee, please.' He answered, remembering the original question. That was him all over – always straying away from the point, getting distracted, losing track. While Jenna was neat, organised, disciplined. The more he thought about it, the more he realised how different they were. But they shared the same views on many things; the same dream. They both longed to travel, as cliché as that was. Although they did travel a bit while filming, they didn't get a chance to take it in properly as they were always being rushed about. They often talked about how they would love to go to all the different countries, of their own volition, just to relax and spend a few nights soaking in the different culture.

While Jenna went to do the coffee, he spied an empty bowl and dragged it over before pouring in the chocolate. He snagged a couple and put them in his mouth, letting them melt over his tongue and savouring the taste.

He needed to go to the toilet, also wash his face – he felt slightly hot and sticky after the long car journey.

'Jenna?' He called. 'Where's the bathroom?'

'Err, go out, third door on your right. Wind chimes on the door, should be hard to miss.'

'Thanks.'

He stepped out of the room into a slightly more bare corridor, which was painted a mint-green and reminded him of his own flat. He found the bathroom easily; like Jenna had said, it was hard to miss.

It was freezing; the window was wide open. He frowned and slid it shut. The whole house would be frozen if it stayed open. He went to the sink and turned on the tap, splashing his face with the cold, refreshing water. He couldn't see any towels to hand so he grabbed a wad of toilet paper and dried his face using that. He had a bit of trouble working out how to open the bin; after searching in vain for any handles or levers he discovered that you simply had to push down on the lid and it popped open. He averted his eyes as he saw bloody tissues inside; although he wasn't really very sure he knew it could be...a woman thing, and he wanted no part in that, thank you very much. It was just blood, really, but knowing where it came from made him feel a little awkward.

From what he had seen, though, Jenna's bin had strange contents. Although there was the usual stuff like cotton buds and packaging there were things like broken razors with the blades missing.

Then again, how would he know what was strange? For all he knew, she had a perfectly ordinary bin for a woman. He went to the toilet quickly, eager to escape the suddenly very feminine room.

He rinsed his hands and went back to the living room.

'Coffee is done.' Jenna told him as he re-entered.

'Thanks,' he said, as he sat back down next to her on the sofa. He picked up his cup and blew gently across the surface to cool it down.

There was a moment of awkward silence; but maybe it was only awkward to him.

Anyway, he had to ask her;

'Are you all right?'

'Of course.'

'Really, though.'

'Why wouldn't I be?'

'Don't be silly, Jenna. How are you?'

She sighed. 'I'm okay. I'm holding up pretty well.'

I smiled at her. 'Have you talked to Daniel since the break up?'

She shook her head vehemently. 'No, and I never want to.' Then she clamped her mouth shut, as if she had said too much.

Matt chuckled. 'I don't think you're quite over it yet.'

He stood and walked to her kitchen.

'Matt, what are you doing?'

He found what he was looking for pretty quickly – a bottle of wine, and some glasses. He walked back with a triumphant grin on his face. 'This will cheer you up.'

She frowned disapprovingly. 'Matt, really. I don-'

'Come on! It's fine. Just a couple of drinks.' He looked at her searchingly. 'Please?'

She glared at him before breaking into rueful laughter.

'How is it that you always manage to get me to do exactly what you want?' She asked rhetorically.

Matt grinned and opened the bottle, pouring the glasses full.

He raised his glass and she followed. He smiled. 'To the future,' He said.

'To the future.' She echoed and they downed their drinks.


	3. Discovering Secrets

A good few drinks later and Matt was feeling slightly out of it. But in a good way. A lazy, happy, floating-in-the-clouds kind of way. He tried to make conversation with Jenna but they both got distracted by things like the colour of the walls and how soft the carpet was and how the curtains had what was certainly the most interesting pattern they had ever seen.

Although he was drunk, he could still appreciate Jenna's beauty. He admired how the soft curls of her fringe framed her face just so, having escaped from the tight ponytail. He lingered over how the soft glow of the lamp cast blurry shadows over her face, highlighting and softening angles and lending her eyes a warm, dewy look.

Slowly the buzzing high of the drink faded and although still most definitely pleasantly drunk, they felt calmer and more relaxed.

Matt asked her again; 'Are you all right?'

And this time she answered straight away, no evasions. This, Matt thought, was probably the drink. But then she parted her lips to talk and the thought was chased away into oblivion.

'I am...okay.' She said. 'I'm coping. I feel much better now.'

There was a long, comfortable silence.

And then -

'Sometimes, I blame myself.'

Matt turned to face her. 'What do you mean?' He asked softly.

'I think...maybe I wasn't good enough.' She told him, honesty opening all of her features to show a new side of her, a soft, vulnerable side he had never witnessed before.

'I feel like if I had tried harder, if I was better, then it would have worked. That things wouldn't have gone so wrong.' He eyes were wide and sparkling and it was as if she was admitting this all for the first time. Maybe she was. Maybe she hadn't even told Nina.

Matt leant forwards. 'Jenna, you can't blame yourself. It wasn't anything you did wrong. You just weren't a match, that's all. Some people meet; they fall in love; and they stay together. Some people just drift apart. Some people go down with broken hearts simply because they fight for what they have, fight for the love they once had. You're one of those people, Jenna. Someone who fought for what they had and as a result, was shattered when you lost it. But it's because of that reason, because you're a fighter, that you can get through this. It wasn't you're fault, Jenna, remember that.'

But instead of comforting her, the words leave her shaking her head viciously.

'No, Matt. You – you don't understand, you don't, you couldn't – how could you? It wasn't like that, Matt. I was fighting, I was, but not to keep that love. I don't think there was ever any love.' She looked up at him with astonished eyes, perpetually wide with the terrible awe of what she was realising. 'It was always me, Matt.' She whispered. 'All the time I knew I was inadequate, but this...I never realised that it was always, all me. I was so very weak.'

Matt had no idea what she was talking about, really, but he could see that she was horribly upset. He reached forwards and grabbed her arms, his hands sliding up under the sleeves of her oversized t-shirt.

She flinched, twisted away sharply, pulling in a heaving breath, and his hands were left empty and clasping air, but not before he had felt the bumps and ridges at the very tops of her arms.

His fingertips tingled with the memory of the feeling, foreign rises and valleys marring the otherwise smooth skin.

'Jenna?' He asked. 'What was that...on your arms?' He asked the question, the question that everybody always asked in these kinds of situations, but he didn't really need an answer, not really. His mind was working overtime, putting together all the clues that he had missed, all the signs.

-_bloody tissues in the bin-_

_-razors with no blades-_

_-where, then, are those blades-_

_-slicing into unbroken skin, tearing-_

_-she hadn't been all that lively and glowing recently-_

_- when she thought nobody was looking, he would see her smile drop and he thought that she looked incredibly sad -  
_

He was most certainly not drunk anymore.

'Jenna,' He whispered. She pulled back, glanced up at him, looked away, covering her face.

She was silent.

'Jenna, it's oka-'

'Please leave, please, you can't-'

Her voice caught and stopped and she looked up at him and she was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks.

'Please leave.' She whispered, but Matt shook his head.

'Not until you tell me why.'

'Matt, I can't-'

'Yes, you can.' He tipped her chin up, made her face him. 'I promise you can trust me, Jenna.'

She shook her head. 'That's what he said.' She told him bleakly.

Matt froze. 'Him?' _Daniel._

Jenna looked up sharply. 'I shouldn't have said – Matt, you have to go, he said, if I tell anyone...' she trailed off as a huge shudder racked her tiny frame, and Matt instinctively raised his hand to reach over to hold her -

She almost fell off the sofa in her haste to get away, breathing fast, eyes wide with terror.

Then her eyes cleared somewhat and she looked flustered.

'Sorry, I got confused-' She still looked dazed, and Matt had a horrible nagging feeling that he might know what was going on. He approached her slowly.

'Jenna? Please.' He had difficulty getting the words out past the horrible lump in his throat, had difficulty making out her expression through the glaze of unshed tears in his eyes.'Ju-Just tell me.'

She looked weary, defeated, as she made her way back to the sofa. She looked at him.

'All right.' She said softly. 'All right.'


	4. The handsome stranger

**18 months ago**

Jenna was working late at her bar, the 11 Lords.

As an actress out of work, it was horribly degrading to be working as a waitress but she had to find some way to get money. She hated the job; she hated the smell, the way the smell clung to her and how no amount of showers could rid her nostrils of the lingering odour. She hated the rowdy customers who called out to every girl and pinched her bum and winked at her and offered her tips while gesturing towards the toilets. She hated the way they degraded her and called he all sorts of names when she rejected them. She hated the lousy pay for her 5 hours a night, from 8 until 1 in the morning.

She got the busiest hours, 8 until 11, and then then next couple hours got quieter until all that was left for her to do was help Monica, the other waitress who came in at half past 11, clear away and put up chairs for the night. They would both leave together at 1:15 and make their way back to their homes.

She would sink onto the sofa or, if the was especially tired, go straight to bed, and either way she would lie there vacantly, wondering why on earth she was doing this. She had decided that at least it couldn't get any worse – it could only get better from here.

She didn't have much free time – it was get up at 9, due to the night shifts, and spend most of the day auditioning and applying for auditions in various shows or movies. But despite her big break in Emmerdale she was rejected time and time again and she often wondered if her acting had gone downhill in the time she hadn't been working.

She would come home at about half 6 and eat quickly before leaving for work at half past seven. Then she would come home at quarter to 2, fall sleep, and repeat the routine.

She was horribly sick of it all; the mind-numbing boredom of each day. At first, it had all been thrilling – she had experienced the novelty of moving into the apartment, of settling in, savouring each day that brought something new. But after a month of being rejected over and over again, her self-esteem fell dramatically and each day grew monotonous and she felt as if she was stumbling through a thick fog of oppression.

But one night, it all changed.

She was working in the 11 Lords, as usual, and it was quarter-past 12, nearing closing time, and she was just starting to clear up when another customer came in. The door scraped shut loudly as a footsteps walked over to a table. She groaned at the thought of having to serve another rowdy, most likely already half-drunk customer. It was unusual for a customer to come in this late. Wasn't one of the regulars, then. She walked out of the kitchen over to the table.

'Can I help you?'

She was taken by surprise when the man raised his head. He was younger than the usual late-night group. Around the same age as her. He was good looking too, not stunning, but his sandy hair, falling forward over piercing blue eyes, made her take a second look.

He smiled and she felt herself smiling back.

'I just want a beer.' He told her and she wrote it down, rather unnecessarily, but trying to stay in his company for a little longer.

'Coming up.' She said, and turned around to get the drink. She wanted to look over her shoulder to see if he was watching her, even though she knew she would look too keen. But she couldn't help herself, and she glanced back. He _was_ staring at her, and he raised his eyebrow and smirked as she looked away, cheeks on fire.

She got his order and when she went back to place it on the table, she expected him to say something or make some sort of move, but he just sat there silently. 'Thanks.' He said shortly and she was taken aback by his sudden change in attitude.

She shrugged it off and smiled before going back to the kitchen.

Later, when she went back to clear away, he'd gone, but he'd also left a tip on the table.

A twenty pound tip. And a note – 'To my gorgeous waitress.' There was a number, presumably his – she entered it into her phone but had a dilemma naming it. She just put, 'stranger' and left it at that.

She wasn't sure if she should text him, or ring him, and in the end her courage deserted her and she did neither. Consequently, it was 7 months before she ever saw him again.


	5. The Start Of Something New

**7 months later**

All of her auditioning had finally paid off – Jenna had landed quite a large role in the show Doctor Who as the 11th Doctor's new companion. She felt happier than she had in ages – she could even afford to quit her job at the 11 Lords now that her advance had come through. In fact, tonight was her very last shift at the smelly, smoky bar.

She span around in her apartment, arms spread wide. She felt free, relieved, and lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She had met her co-star, Matt Smith, and he'd been lovely to her; they'd gotten off to a great start and the dialogue just seemed to flow naturally between them.

For the first time in an age, she lay back on her bed and instead of stressing about money and feeling horribly depressed, she closed her eyes and contemplated a much happier future.

Of course, she knew that this role wouldn't last forever; but it would last for a while, at least, and she intended to savour every moment of it.

As a result, when she went in for her shift at the 11 Lords that night, even the regulars noticed her happiness. It seemed to radiate into every corner of the room.

'What's the news?' They'd ask.

'Oh, nothing.' She's reply nonchalantly. 'I'm just in a good mood.'

And they'd regard her suspiciously; after all, the people who worked here weren't happy ones.

_But soon, I won't be working here at all_. She told herself, and her grin grew even wider.

Nina, who she had grown to become good friends with, arrived at half 11 as usual, and instantly noticed the change.

'Hey!' She said. 'You look over the moon. What's up?'

Jenna flung her arms around her. 'I got a job!' She beamed, and Nina couldn't help but grin back at the sight of Jenna looking so uplifted.

'What job?'Nina asked.

'I shouldn't really say, but...I know you won't tell anyone. The next companion on Doctor Who!'

Nina looked blank for a second; but then recognition cleared her face. 'Oh, I know the show.' She smiled warmly. 'Well done. I'm happy for you.'

'Thank you.' Jenna said. But then a wave of guilt flooded her. 'It's my last shift tonight, Nina.' She said. Nina looked startled. 'You're quitting?'

Jenna nodded. 'Yeah.' She said. 'I don't want to work here if I don't have to. I love you, of course, but the place is so depressing. I have a chance to be free and I want to embrace it with my arms wide open.' She demonstrated by flinging out her arms and twirling in the spot. Nina sighed but had to chuckle.

'I understand.' She said, and Jenna felt relieved.

Then, a deep voice rang out.

'I couldn't help but overhear most of that.'

Both of them had been so preoccupied with the news that they had failed to hear the door scrape open and closed as a late customer came in.

Jenna whirled around, and then her mouth dropped open in shock. Leaning on the bar was none other than the 'stranger' whose number she had saved into her phone over half a year ago.

'It's you-' She blurted, and then blushed. Would remembering him after all this time make her too keen? But then he smiled. 'I remember you, too.' He mock-pouted. 'I was always hoping you'd ring, or text, but you never did.'

She felt a little bad, hearing that. 'Sorry. I was too shy.'

Nina quietly left the scene, smirking. Jenna was moving on to great, good things, and while she would miss her she didn't resent her in the slightest.

'So.' The man said to Jenna, 'I guess we should start over.'

She smiled.

'What's your name?' He asked.

'Jenna. Jenna Coleman. You?'

'Daniel.' He told her, and reached out to shake her hand. 'It's awfully nice to meet you, Miss Coleman. But I couldn't help overhearing that you've landed the part of a companion in Doctor Who. Tell me, what's an actress doing in a bar?'

Jenna groaned. 'I wasn't supposed to tell anyone – not anyone apart from, family, boyfriends, and my closest friends.' She frowned when he smirked and winked.

'Well, then.' He said. 'Better make me one of those, quickly.'

And Jenna felt her heart skip a beat, butterflies rising in her stomach.

Things were most certainly looking up.

And that was where it all really started – one smoky night in a bar, what she thought was the best night of her life.

She and Daniel went on many dates; over time, she slowly started to fall for him. He was the perfect gentleman, almost too good to be true. He only asked that she keep their relationship on the low, and she understood – he most likely didn't want to be hounded by the press. So she only told Nina, and Matt Smith, who was now a friend to rival Nina in closeness. They got along so well, that even off set they were teasing each other and laughing, always talking about their hopes and dreams and their views on various subjects.

At first, he had reservations about Daniel; warned her to be careful. But as the weeks went by and all she had to say were good things, although she didn't like to talk about him too much, he relaxed and simply wished her happiness.


	6. Monster

**THIS CHAPTER WENT SO WRONG I'M SORRY!**

**I don't know what happened honestly, it just went awfully and every time I rewrote it it seemed to get worse. I feel terrible for ruining what was meant to be one of the main chapters, but I promised to update tonight so here I am! Anyway, it may be a mess but I hope it's still enjoyable.x **

It was a few months later that Jenna wished she had listened to Matt from the start.

It was one night when after a late night at the bar that she was a little too drunk to drive and Matt had to drop her off. He had half-carried her to the door, and when she couldn't find her keys he rang furiously for Daniel to come to the door. It opened in no time and Matt handed her over with a tight hug and a 'Stay safe,' In her ear. She had stumbled indoors telling Daniel about how nice Matt was, how he was such a good friends It was only when she looked up at him that she noticed the tight, angry expression on his face.

'Danny? What's the matter?' She slurred. He looked at her, stony-faced.

'Who was that?'

She blinked at him in surprise.'Don't you know? He's Matt Smith. My co-star on Doctor Who. He plays the Doctor.'

'It's funny how you've never mentioned him before.'

Jenna found the situation absurdly funny; the drink, she supposed later on. She could barely hold in her laughter.

'Haven't I?' She asked, astonished at her sober self. 'I'm surprised I haven't, he's a great guy. Really great. We were out for a drink the other night and-'

She was cut off as Daniel took a stride towards her. 'You went for a drink? And you never told me?'

He looked suspicious. Jenna started laughing. 'You don't need to be suspicious.' She told him. 'There's nothing at all, nothing-'

'I guess you think I'm stupid enough to fall for that? Don't laugh at me. While you're with me, you don't see any other guys.'

'How can I not see him? He's the main character.'

'You didn't need to go for a drink with him!' He loomed over her. 'You do not ever go for a drink with him again. Ever, Jenna. You are with me. Other men are not part of this.'

Annoyed at his possessive tone, Jenna replied, 'I can see whoever I want, thank you very much. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself. Your insecurities are really not my problem.'

She'd slurred the majority of the large words but she was sure he'd understood the message she was trying to get across; that she was her own woman and she would not be commanded by jealous men. But then again, maybe not; he was looking more angered, and she flinched when a broad hand slammed into her shoulder, pinning her against the wall.

'I do not have any 'insecurities', Jenna.' He snarled. 'It's not my fault if my own girlfriend decides to act like a common whore!'

She recoiled in shock – even drunk she was taken aback by his words. Her Danny, who had only ever been perfectly sweet to her, acting like this? Still, his words angered her.

'Having a drink with a friend isn't being a "common whore".' She retorted. 'If you think you can treat me like a possession then you are completely wrong.'

'Am I really?' He asked, a sinister tone creeping into his voice. 'You. Are. Mine. My girlfriend. I don't tolerate any form of cheating. Ever. I never have, and I never will; and if you think you're special enough to change that then you are the one in the wrong. I want you to promise to never meet up with that man again.'

Indignant, Jenna tried to push past him. 'Excuse me! You need to get it into your head that-'

His hand shoved against her shoulder roughly, and she was roughly pushed back into the wall again.

'Do not walk away from me while I am talking!' He was shouting now; eyes narrowed into tiny slits, Jenna had never seen him this angry at all. She was scared, almost, but she wasn't going to back down. Matt was one of the best friends she had.

'Stop me.' She hissed, and ducked under his arm, crossing the room. He wheeled around to face her, eyebrows drawn together by the dark frown shadowing his face. He advanced slowly.

'I want you to promise me-'

'No-'

'That you will never, ever see him again outside of work-'

'For god's sake, no-'

'Or I will make you.'

She looked up at him sharply. 'Oh really.' She drawled sarcastically. At least, she attempted to – the drink made her words almost unintelligible but she shook her head to clear it slightly and carried on.

'I'd like to see you try.' She hissed. She straightened up. She had no wish to stay inside the apartment any longer; she wanted to be away from him, to sort out her thoughts. 'I'm going out; I don't care what you think, you're an egotistic jerk and if you don't sort it out by morning then something about us is going to have to change-'

She was cut off as he grabbed her and span her around. She barely had time to register the fury etched into his normally handsome face before a strong, hard fist slammed straight into her stomach. She fell back, gasping for breath as the wind was knocked out of her. She chocked and coughed through the pain and was about to say something when his fist rammed into her again, this time on her ribcage. She was gasping for breath, and to her embarrassment tears started flowing freely from her eyes.

'You do not talk to me with disrespect!' Danny yelled. 'As long as you are with me, you do exactly as I say. You see who I want you to see. You do what I want you to do.' He paused. 'This is not. Up. For. Discussion!'

He punctuated each word with a hard blow to her stomach, sides, breasts, arms, anywhere he could reach. The only place he avoided hitting was her face, and she was absurdly grateful.

'Do you understand?' He growled, and choking on tears and struggling for breath, she could only nod desperately.

'Good.' He hissed and pushed her away, towards the bedroom. 'Go to bed.' He told her. 'I don't want to see you move until morning.'

So she lay there, in the bed, alone, shivering, and completely terrified. She cried until she felt sick, sick from her very core, contemplating making a run for it but fearful of his crashing fists.

She felt utterly helpless – she didn't know what to do. She could hear him in the next room, turning on the TV, opening a beer, and she had never hated the sounds so much as she did then. In her mind; he was no longer the perfect gentleman who had charmed her from the very start; he was a cruel, vicious monster, to be feared and loathed.


	7. Author's Note - DILEMMA

**I NEED HELP :o**

**Okay before I say anything else, I plan on updating tomorrow night - **

**It would've been earlier this week but I wrote like three chapters and then everything crashed and I lost them so I've been really demoralised hahah**

**And because for some reason I can't reply to reviews I want to say on here, thanks for all the sweet reviews :)**

**And to jesusisboss**

**How about, if/when I do smut I'll put a warning at the bottom of the previous chapter?**

**Although I don't know if I'm going to do smut after all. **

**Basically the point of this note is that I don't mind writing explicit/graphic stuff but I don't know if it would make the whole thing really trashy or not, or if you guys wouldn't like it so could people who read this pleaseee review with what you think?**

**It would be very much appreciated.**

**Thank you :)**


	8. Broken

**Here is the next chapter, as promised! I would have uploaded the next one with this if I hadn't lost all my work and had to re-do it D:**

**Anyway I finished it at last so here you are.**

**I hope you all enjoy it :)**

**Also if you are one of those people who likes listening to music while reading/writing them I highly recommend you listen to Freedom from Django Unchained by Anthony Hamilton and Elayna Boynton. It's what I listened to while I wrote it and I love the atmosphere it creates. **

**Sorry for the super-long intro, if anyone even reads these things anyway, haha.**

**Also sorry for the super-long time I made you wait for the next chapter :( I will update again by Wednesday night. As always, favourite, follow, review! :)**

Things continued in this way for a month or so; with Daniel losing his temper and lashing out every so often. Jenna often thought about leaving him but there wasn't anywhere to go - what was there to do when the monster had a key to your home?

She tried to stay quiet, to not draw any undue attention to herself, in the hope that the vicious attacks would be less frequent.

They fought almost constantly, harsh words being thrown back and forth.

'You don't even have any friends!' He snarled once.

'Yes, I do! There's Matt-' Jenna knew the words were a mistake as soon as they left her mouth. She wished desperately that she could take them back but it was too late.

However, to her surprise, he started laughing-

'Do you honestly think he's your friend?'

She remained silent, stung. Taken aback at the turn of events, she simply looked at him quizzically.

'What have you got going for you?' He asked.

Jenna shrank back slightly. It was a good question – what strengths _did_ she have?

'Your career isn't successful; you're not pretty, or skinny. You're annoying at the best of times.' Daniel was laughing again, laughing at her. 'Do you really this "friendship" is anything more than him putting up with you?'

Jenna wasn't sure; she'd been sure that they'd had something. Some sort of natural connection. But maybe she'd been imagining it after all. She felt tears rising up; she felt ashamed, embarrassed. How could she have been so blind?

All this time and all she had been doing was annoying Matt, throwing herself at him so obviously in the hope of some friendship when all he wanted to do was get away from her.

'You're a burden, Jenna.' Daniel told her mercilessly. 'You're lucky to even have me. I could have so much better.'

She crumpled against the wall, sobbing now.

_I have nobody_.

'Then leave!' She screamed desperately. 'I don't want you! I don't want you, I don't-'

She cut off as more sobs choked her, leaving her gasping on the floor as Daniel looked down at her pitiful state with revulsion clearly written across his features.

'Why are you still here? If I'm so disgusting, why are you with me? Leave me alone, please, just leave me!' Jenna yelled, nails scratching into the floorboards, tears pattering into abstract patterns around her fingertips.

Daniel smirked as he replied. 'Someone had to take you off that high horse. Someone had to teach you that you weren't anything special. Do you know how sickening it was?' He asked. 'To watch you, day after day, strut around as if you were different from everyone else. As if you were perfect.' He paused before ramming the point home. 'You're nothing, Jenna. _Nothing_. You just don't get it. You're not beautiful, not even pretty. You're plain and you're boring. You're too fat; too clumsy.' His eyes narrowed. 'Too full of flaws.'

He crouched down so he was at the same level as her. 'Look at you.' He snarled. 'You're a mess! Tell me, Jenna, why on earth would he want to be associated with someone like you? _Tell me_.'

'He...wouldn't.' She whispered, hating the catch in her voice. '_He wouldn't._'

'That's right.' Daniel told her softly, cruelly. 'He wouldn't.'

She said nothing; simply sat, head down, letting her hair hang forward and hide her tears.

'Now get up.' Daniel said. '_Get up!_' He said more forcefully, when she didn't move.

He grabbed her wrist and yanked it up savagely, and she cried out in pain as her shoulder pulled at an awkward angle. She stumbled to her feet and let him lead her into the bedroom, throwing her down onto the bed.

He didn't do anything; just spat in her direction. 'I don't want you when you're in this disgusting state.' He told her. 'Sort yourself out by the time I get back.'

He left the room, heavy footsteps slamming onto the floorboards, followed by a jangle of keys as he took hers. So she couldn't get her car, she supposed. Not that it mattered; she thought. She had nowhere to go anyway. What right did she have to force herself upon people who hated her?

She deserved Daniel, really. It was almost a punishment for all the times she had needlessly inflicted her presence on others. Daniel was the best she could ever get, and she should be grateful.

She pulled out her phone from her pocket, and stared at it before unlocking it.

A picture of her and Matt stared up at her; her phone background, taken on a night out. One of the best nights she'd had, really. But now it was tainted with the knowledge that the smile beaming out of the picture was fake; that the whole time, he'd simply been putting up with her and her ugliness, how annoying she was, how fat. How unpleasant he must have found it, being with her. She wasn't pleasant to look at; and her personality also lacked. She felt horribly humiliated.

She screamed, a sound of frustration and despair, throwing the phone at the wall. It didn't break; just bounced off it and landed on the rug at the foot of her bed.

Fresh tears sprung from her eyes as she stood and stumbled to the bathroom. She faced the mirror, but all she could see through the moisture in her eyes was a blurry figure. She angrily wiped away the tears and he face swam into focus. She was too chubby; she could see that now. How she hated the obvious fatness to her cheeks.. Her nose stuck out horribly - She had teased Matt about his chin, when in reality her nose was far more likely to take someone's eye out.

She stepped, back, gasping, hastily tearing at her clothes, before standing naked in front of the mirror.

She clamped sweaty, desperate hands to her stomach, thighs, hips, as if pressing hard would make the fat shrink inwards and disappear.

She cried out in desperation, hugging herself, raking her nails down the plump flesh of her arms.

She watched through foggy eyes as the white lines faded to be replaced with a darker red, the sharp, stinging pain momentarily distracting her from everything else. She liked that, she decided, and did it again, this time harder, leaving small furrows in the wake of her clawed fingertips.

This was something she could control. This was something she could be a master of - while the fat, and the ugliness could not simply disappear, the scratches appeared at her bidding, when she wanted them to, _how_ she wanted them to.

She looked around wildly for something more effective; something that could do more than her flimsy fingernails.

She took a razor with shaking hands, pulling back the plastic frame until it snapped open and she could take out a single, tiny blade.

_Funny how something so small can hold so much relief_, she thought, and without a moment of hesitation, brought it slicing down swiftly, _hard, _across the top of her arm.

The sharp, biting pain made her close her eyes in blessed relief. For a few moments all she could think of was the ache and sting of the cut, slowly weeping blood which trickled down her arm.

She did it again, and again; deeper now, and she cried out in pain, but it was a cry mingled with the strangest sense of euphoria. She leant forwards, hands braced on the edge of the sink, small streams of blood making ribbons of red winding down her arms. Watching them trickle lazily, she felt a sense of freedom.

In the mirror, she hardly recognised herself. _Who are you?_ She asked the stranger. _What have you become?_

_Broken_, the stranger replied silently. _I am broken._


	9. The best laid schemes of mice and men

**I don't really like this chapter, it became so boring and is just a filler chapter setting up for the next one/s really.**

**It's also a bit longer than usual which normally would be good but in this case I'm worried that it just makes the chapter drag on for much longer than it needs to.**

**But anyway, I hope you like it :)**

The next day when Jenna woke up, her arms were slightly sore and when she rolled over onto one accidentally the cuts flared up and stung horribly. She winced, but in a way welcomed the pain. Although she wasn't she wasn't as wound up as she had been the night before she could still appreciate how the sharp burn detracted from all the emotional agony.

It was 11 am, a late start to the day for her. She panicked, thinking she was late for work, before she realised that she didn't have any shooting to do that day. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief and flopped back down on the bed.

Daniel had gone out – his side of the bed was cold and there was none of his usual noise coming from the rest of the apartment.

Jenna lay back and closed her eyes, relishing the peace that came with the silence.

Eventually she managed to drag herself out of bed and she made breakfast, toast with butter as she wasn't in the mood for making anything complicated. She had just finished eating when Daniel's words from the previous night came rushing back.

"_You're plain and you're boring. You're too fat; too clumsy."_

_Too fat._

With a sudden wave of nausea overcoming her, she ran to the toilet in time to throw up the food she had just eaten.

_Too fat._

How did she expect to get into shape if all she did was eat?

Disgusted at herself, she rinsed her mouth and flushed the toilet.

She went back into the bedroom to retrieve her phone – she had a missed call from Matt. Staring at the little flashing icon she debated on whether or not to ring him back.

She decided against it, eventually. The thought that he hadn't really liked her all this time still made her cheeks sting with shame.

Maybe she could go into work a little earlier than normal tomorrow and disappear into the costume department for as long as possible.

_God, work_ – how could she face it? Another day of shooting alongside Matt, watching that horribly fake grin plastered across his face. She wouldn't be surprised if every time she turned away he made exasperated faces to the others.

In actual fact, she still had to learn that monologue from her script – for some reason she just couldn't remember it.

She dug it out from her bag and flipped to the page, frowning. She needed to learn this by tomorrow, or disappoint and anger the whole team.

_Clara: If I step in there..what happens?_

_River: The time wounds will tear you into a million pieces. A million versions of you, living and dying all over time and space...echoes._

_Clara: But the echoes could save the Doctor, right?_

_River: But they won't be you. The real you will die. They'll just be copies._

_Clara: But they'll be real enough to save him. It's like my mum said; the soufflé isn't the soufflé, the soufflé is the recipe._

_...It's the only way to save him, isn't it? _

_River nods._

_Clara: Well, how about that. I'm soufflé girl after all. If this works, get out of here as fast as you can. And...spare me a thought now and then. In fact, you know what? Run. Run, you clever boy, and remember me._

She ran over the dialogue again and again in her head. This was one of the key moments of the episode; she _had_ to get it right. As a series finale went, it was a pretty big one, with the dramatic reveal of exactly how the Impossible Girl had come to be. But for some reason, she just couldn't focus. She'd always been proud of her ability to almost instantly remember her lines but just as she needed the skill most it had deserted her. She groaned, and threw the papers into the air in frustration, watching them tumble back down wearily.

Whenever she had trouble learning lines, which admittedly wasn't often, she'd call Matt and meet him somewhere and they'd practise together. It worked; actually performing the lines with someone else seemed to ingrain it deeper into her memory.

She picked up her phone again and stared at the missed call.

_Should I_?

Even though she didn't want to burden him, failing to remember her lines would annoy the entire Doctor Who team. She repeatedly told herself that as she called him back, biting her nails and feeling unusually nervous. Now that she knew the truth she felt awkward and unsure calling someone she used to consider a close friend.

She counted the ringing tones obsessively and he picked up on the 11th ring - even though she knew it was ridiculous, she wondered if he'd taken so long to answer because he'd seen the caller ID and didn't particularly want to pick up.

She berated herself internally for the stupid train of thought and turned her attention back to the phone.

'Hi, Jenna.' Matt said, and although his voice sounded the same as usual she could have sworn there was a hint of boredom, and exasperation.

'..Hi.' She said tentatively.

'What did you call for?'

'I just checked my phone and I had a missed call from you.'

'Oh yeah, I remember. I didn't mean to ring you, sorry about that.'

She felt stung and more than a little rejected. But then again, what had she expected?

She could still apologise and hang up without asking about practising lines together. She knew what she would say; "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I'll see you tomorrow then, bye."

But she needed to learn these lines and she couldn't be selfish enough to ruin the filming.

'Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to bother you...But I'm having trouble remembering my lines and I wondered if maybe you could rehearse them with me?'

She cringed at the eager tone to her voice. She had overdone it a little.

Luckily, Matt didn't protest. 'Of course! I'll come over, shall I?'

She let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding and felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders as relief coursed through her. 'Sure,' She agreed hastily. 'See you soon.'

'In a bit. Bye.'

There was a click as he cut off then phone and she did the same. She needed to get ready; put on some decent clothes, look up the bus times as she didn't have her car and-

_Oh no._

She froze in a moment of panic as she remembered what Matt had said.

_I'll come over, shall I?_

What if Daniel came back? What if he started on her while Matt was there?

What if he actually started on Matt?

She texted Matt hastily, finger fumbling on the keys.

"_Actually, I've got a better idea. Why don't we meet somewhere and have lunch? We can rehearse there._"

She waited impatiently for his reply and when it came, grabbed her phone nervously.

"_It's okay, I'm already on my way. Besides, much more private in your apartment. Won't have people thinking we're weirdos. ;)_"

She groaned but texted back an "okay".

She would just have to lie to Daniel. As long as he didn't find out it didn't matter. She got out her phone again.

"_Hi. I think you were right yesterday. And I know you could do better. Which is why I think I should be trying my best to keep you. Why don't we meet somewhere to eat at about four? I know you get off work at half two today but maybe you could just hang around for a bit rather than come home and go straight back out again. x_"

She felt sick sending the text, but if it meant Daniel would stay away she didn't mind.

Of course, the text was the truth; she knew he was right, knew she should try to keep him as he was the best she could get but the way she'd written it, pathetically begging for forgiveness, as if she was still in love with him, was most definitely not an accurate representation of her feelings and that was what triggered the nausea.

But she pushed it down and waited for a reply.

"_Sounds okay to me. Four at the bar we used to go to? Don't be late._"

And then in another text, an added "_x_".

All this pretending to be nice on both parts was rather sickening, but then, none of their relationship was exactly what you could call healthy.

But her plan had fallen into place nicely; she could breathe a sigh of relief and tidy up the apartment. Not that there was much to tidy; after Daniel had gotten into a rage one night and smashed up a lot of her belongings she didn't really have much. Her trinkets and little statues and things she'd collected over the years were now in pieces somewhere in a landfill site, including the small china cat she'd received from her grandma who'd passed away not long ago.

It had been the only item she'd had of her grandma's and she often mourned losing it.

She hadn't painted her place either – she'd planned to but since everything had gone wrong she hadn't really been in right state of mind. She didn't think Daniel would have been pleased either. He seemed to like the white, sparsely furnished rooms while Jenna was into deep earthy reds and browns and glowing oranges. She often lay in bed at night with her eyes closed, pretending she was in a warm room painted in all he favourite colours with flickering candles and drapes over the beds. More often than not she would imagine someone she loved beside her, strong arms wrapped around her waist.

In a way she hated it because when she opened her eyes she would be faced with the draughty, bare room and cold air caressing her waist rather than warm, strong arms because Daniel had rolled over in his sleep and taken most of the duvet with him. But then again it was a way of getting though a few precious minutes of the long nights, a comforting thought that kept a spark going when she was lying shivering on the double bed that had never felt so empty, even with two bodies in it.

One day, she prayed, she would have more than a dream to keep her warm at night, but for now she couldn't see any future that bright.

She drew her thoughts back to the present and walked into the bedroom.

Opening the closet she was met with a colourful array of clothes, but every item of clothing she looked seemed ugly and unflattering.

She pulled out some items at random and tried them on.

A vest top and light blue jeans were discarded because you could see the cuts on her arms, and the jeans really didn't help her fat thighs at all - the same went for a short sleeved top and white skirt.

After a lot of frustrated, disgusted glances at herself in the mirror she settled for tight black jeans which hopefully made her thighs look less elephant-sized as they actually were and a long, baggy white top that covered her stomach and hid her upper arms.

Next was make up but she didn't particularly want to linger over her face, so she just put on some highlighter and bronzer to make her cheeks look more defined and less fat.

She was just in time, too; only a few minutes later did the bell ring and she got up hastily.

But then she paused – how long should she wait before opening the door? Too quickly would make her look eager and desperate, but too long would make her look rude?

Three rings maybe?

By the time she had thought all of this Matt had already rung the bell about five times and, panicking, she ran to open the door.

'Sorry,' She gasped. 'I didn't hear it the first time.'

He just smiled. 'That's all right. Now, shall we get started?'


	10. Author's Note - NEW FIC!

**Hey :)**

**I just wanted to say I've posted another fic. It's 11 x Clara featuring a little bit of 10 in the beginning and maybe also later on...;) and anyway I don't know if I'm actually going to continue it but it depends on what you want. I started it a while back but had no reason to carry it on so it just got dropped...if you could check it out and leave a review if you want me to carry it on that would be great :') If I do carry it on, this fic will have a much higher priority and the other one would probably be updated less frequently to make sure I have plenty of time for this one. So don't worry! I won't be replacing this story.**

**In other news I'll be updating this fic again by Saturday night so sorry for the boring filler but it will get better! (I hope D: )**

**Lots of love xx**


	11. Acting

**The reviews about the chapters being unavailable only just came through for me so I thought I'd explain - ****as I got a review complaining about the amount of author's notes I deleted the ones that weren't needed any more so consequently chapters 11-13 no longer existed as they were now chapters 7, 8, and 9.**

**For some reason the changes only partially went through so the chapters I'd deleted were still there but the later chapters weren't accessible.**

**Hopefully it's all sorted out now? Anyway I hope you like this chapter, personally I'm finding it hard to make the chapters interesting but I'm hoping it was a good enough job to please you :)**

As Matt stepped into Jenna's apartment she started to feel panicked and awkward.

She tried to discreetly watch his expression to see if it held any signs of irritation or anger, but she could only detect his usual smiling demeanour. Then again, he was an actor, after all. And a good one, too.

She took his jacket from him and hung it up on the peg by the door.

'Tea? Coffee? Anything else?' She asked, desperate for an excuse to get to the kitchen and have a moment to herself.

'Coffee would be nice, thanks.' He said, and she eagerly left the room.

Once in the kitchen she ran her hands under the cold tap and splashed water on her hot face.

She needed to calm down; they hadn't even started and she was in a mess.

_It's just Matt_ – she told herself. _And you're an actress. Now it's time to put on the greatest show of your life._

Still, she took some time making the coffee, giving herself a while to prepare the facade.

She eventually emerged holding the hot mug to see Matt looking through the script.

'Here.' She said, and gave him the coffee. 'I hope it's all right.'

He took a sip, and gave her the thumbs up. 'Perfect.'

She sat down on the sofa and beckoned for him to join her. 'So,' She said, 'I just can't remember Clara's monologue – the bit before she jumps into the Doctor's time stream.'

He nodded. 'Okay. I'll do River; let's start now and we'll get it done in not time.'

Jenna agreed readily and soon she was absorbed in the task.

After a while she could feel her awkwardness slip away; there was just something about Matt that made him so easy to be with.

_Just for today; _she thought, _just for today I'll pretend that I don't know._

So she did; she pretended that the events of the last few months had never happened.

She pretended that she had never met Daniel; that his fists had never touched her; that he had never shown her all her flaws; that she was beautiful and skinny and her and Matt were as close as before.

It worked, to an extent. While she could never truly forget, as much as she wished it could, Matt's very presence soothed her in a way she hadn't been soothed for a very long time.

So she was surprised when she looked up after what felt like minutes later and saw the time; quarter past three.

The hours had flown past and now she had to meet Daniel.

Luckily she'd learnt her part a while ago; but in a moment of madness had decided to pretend she still hadn't got it just so she could spend a little more time with Matt without seeming clingy or desperate. Now, though, she really did have to leave, and although the thought of seeing Daniel made her feel a little ill she ignored it and turned to Matt.

'I'm sorry,' She said, 'But I completely lost track of time – I've got a date in a bit.'

'Are you sure you'll be okay?' He asked, and Jenna froze.

It took a moment of bewildered panic before she realised that he was talking about the script and not her meeting Daniel.

'Oh, I'll be fine.' She reassured him. 'I've got enough of it in my head now to be able to learn the rest tonight.' She paused. 'Thank you for coming over and helping me though. I really appreciate it.'

_Thank you for coming over and putting up with me, even though you don't like me._

He smiled. 'Any time, Jenna.'

He stood up, and she showed him to the door.

'Well, I'll see you tomorrow.' He said and she nodded.

She shut the door and turned back to her now empty apartment. Even though it was only down one occupant it suddenly felt lifeless and gloomy.

While Matt had been there it had felt warmer, more like home.

She shook herself, clearing the thoughts from her head with annoyance. If she constantly thought like this then when the time came for her and Matt to separate completely it would hurt all the more.

Daniel already gave her enough pain; if she had to go through more then she would shatter completely.

Daniel worked far away from her apartment, but the bar they were meeting at was more middle ground, and it would take her about half an hour to get there by taxi as she didn't have her keys.

Which gave her ten minutes to call the taxi and get ready.

She dialled hastily and told the foreign-sounding man her address. She didn't have much to do apart from wait – maybe she ought to put on something nicer for a date, but then again her more dressy clothes would only accentuate her terrible figure. Plus, what was the point in dressing up for a man who told her she looked awful no matter what she wore? No matter what she did or said or wore it would never be enough for Daniel and she could only hope that he wouldn't start anything in public.

She was hoping that the neutral, public setting would be a middle ground in more than one way.

She waited impatiently for the taxi, and miraculously, it arrived on time.

By the end of the journey she felt as if she'd been in the stuffy car for hours when in fact it was more like twenty minutes. She paid the driver, accidentally giving him a ten pound tip but not having the energy to say anything and turned to face the bar.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before pushing open the door and stepping inside.


	12. Apologies

**Okay. I'm awfully sorry for not updating. I have no good explanation, really; I just haven't been doing too well for a while.**

**I haven't abandoned this, honest, but updates might be less frequent and irregular until I get my head straight. At the moment I don't feel like writing very much.**

**Thank you for the follows, favourites, and reviews. They really are all very much appreciated.**

**I also hope you don't think this chapter was a bit far fetched or random but for some reason I couldn't really write it any other way.**

**Lots of love xxx**

She was instantly hit with a wave of sound and reeled back slightly. Wincing as a building headache started pounding against her skull, she walked further in, scanning the busy area for Daniel.

She spotted him already seated at the bar with a coat thrown over the seat next to him, saving it for her. She remembered when those little gestures had used to make her smile inwardly; now that the pretence was over she felt more ashamed that she had ever fallen for it all.

She hesitated before walking over to him, tapping him on the shoulder gingerly.

He turned and she saw that he was already drunk. He smiled and the wide grin reminded her of the way a shark looks as it bares its teeth and circles its prey.

He moved his coat from the stool next to him and motioned for her to have a seat.

'Sit.' He told her, and she did, shivering despite the warmth of the bar.

He frowned when he saw goosebumps on her flesh.

'Have my coat.' He slurred, and draped it over her shoulders, rubbing her back to create friction.

'I missed you.' He said, hugging her tight.

Jenna was bewildered; what had happened to the angry, hard, vicious Daniel? The Daniel she was seeing right now was the Daniel of old; the Daniel she'd fallen in love with. And when he was looking at her with his blue eyes and smiling so warmly she wasn't sure what to think.

'I...missed you, too.' She ventured. Was this a test?

He turned away and held up his hand for another drink. 'The same again, please.' He told the bartender. 'And a glass of red wine for the beautiful girl beside me.' He winked at Jenna and she forced a smile onto her face.

She was sure that her complete confusion must be written plainly across her face, but if it was, he hadn't noticed it at all.

She was still dwelling over the fact that he'd called her beautiful, a word she hadn't heard in association with herself for a long time. Would he still say the same thing when he saw the deep, angry lines running across her upper arms?

She shook the thoughts away angrily. Whatever game he was playing at, she wouldn't allow herself to take the bait.

When she wine came she sipped at it hastily, grateful for something to do other than sit and fidget awkwardly.

They didn't really have a conversation, as such, leaving muttered half-sentences awkwardly hanging in the smoky air. Jenna was still waiting for some sort of explanation, although she didn't really expect one. So she was surprised when one came; Daniel turned to her and waved his phone at he as if it was a clue.

'When I got your text,' He told her, 'I realised that maybe I've been a bit harsh on you.'

There was a horrible silence as Jenna tried to decide on whether to laugh or cry at the absurd understatement.

Daniel seemed to clue in to her hesitation and had the grace to look away awkwardly.

'I just want to start again.' He said. 'Pretend that this is the first time we met. I'm so sorry, Jenna, I really am. I regret everything and I will do anything to make it up to you.'

Despite the hint of slurring that the drink had effected his voice with, it rang with sincerity and Jenna found herself leaning towards him eagerly. Could it be true? She'd often imagined something like this, a simple reunion between them, although she'd always imagined it to be slightly more romantic than a busy bar.

Intoxicated with the thought of her life returning to the peaceful state it had been, in she couldn't resist nodding.

'Okay.' She breathed, a heady rush flooding her and sweeping away the last of her common sense and inhibitions.  
He smiled and she smiled back timidly, hand clutching her now empty wine glass with a new determination. _I'll get things right, this time_ - she promised herself. _I'll make it work_.


	13. Touch

They stumbled home a few hours later, laughing for no reason in particular. The cold night air bit at her cheeks and stung her fingertips but it hardly bothered her now; not when her dream was so close that she could almost taste it. She was holding Daniel's hand, and the tiniest portion of her brain was questioning her sanity in taking him back this quickly and easily, after the long nights of horror, to let him whisper a few sweet words in her ear and to let them burrow their way into her mind; she must be mad.

But the rest of her, the parts that were blinded with the hope of being free from the long nightmare, told her, take a chance! What more can you lose? And she listened to them with a delightful abandon.  
He opened the apartment door and they fell inside, eager to escape the cold. Daniel shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the peg by the door, with Jenna following suit.  
'I'll get hot drinks, shall I?' She asked, walking into the kitchen. As she made the drinks she almost ran on autopilot, her brain turning over the events of the last few hours.  
Something inside her knew that she shouldn't be letting herself go like this; that it was all a trick, a terrible joke that he would cruelly reveal and leave her feeling humiliated.  
But all the parts of her that had been battered and broken down were reaching up for a tiny glimmer of hope; tiny flames she couldn't extinguish no matter how hard she tried.  
When the kettle finished boiling she carefully poured the boiling water into the mugs. She'd started being more careful with everything, recently. Careful not to annoy Daniel in any way.  
She carried the drinks into the living room where Daniel was sitting on the sofa.  
'Here.' She said, handing him a cup.  
He smiled. 'Thanks.'  
She was about to sit down next to him when she noticed some material wedged behind him; it took a long, slow moment for her to realise that it was Matt's coat, and that he must have left it behind when he left after helping her learn her lines.  
Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest; if Daniel noticed now, then it would be all over.

Time seemed to slow for the next few minutes, with her trying her best to act normal and cheery. Luckily, Daniel was absorbed by the TV and didn't seem to pay much attention to her.  
'I'm going to the toilet.' He suddenly announced, and stood up. Stretching languidly he walked away into the hall and soon Jenna heard the toilet door open and close. Thinking fast and thanking any god there may be for the timely coincidence, she grabbed the coat and ran out of the living room. Freezing for a moment in the hall, she frantically wracked her mind for a good hiding place before turning into the kitchen. They had their washing machine in this room; she opened it and stuffed the coat inside. Daniel didn't do the washing, of course, so he would never look in there.

She spent a few moments making sure it wasn't obvious to anyone casually walking by and then hastily reentered the living room and sat down as she heard the toilet flush.

Daniel walked back in and smiled at her before sitting back down. Although Jenna still could not completely relax around him she noted that she felt a lot safer than she used to. She could only wonder what had really brought about- his change of heart; had he simply decided to take pity on her?  
Not wanting to ruin the moment with thoughts if her own worthlessness she shoved the comments away to the back of her mind and instead dared to move slightly closer to Daniel. After so long of enduring heavy blows and harsh words, she felt a sudden craving for some sort of soft, soothing touch.  
Although it made her heart race to lean this close to him - was she pushing his newly found forgiveness? - she pushed into his side in the hope of receiving any sort of affection. She felt like a child, begging for attention.  
But his arm lifted and settled around her; and she wanted to cry with the sheer relief and joy of such a simple touch, nothing more than a warm arm settled about her waist. She closed her eyes and savoured it; determined to memorise the feeling.  
And in that instant, she could almost forget everything that he had done to her. She wanted to freeze the moment, the moment in which she could relax at last; she could simply close her eyes and _be._


End file.
